Chapter One

It was increasingly unusual for
PC’s to be enthusiastic in their work, DI Ellison had noticed as his years in
the force had passed, so it was somewhat surprising that the usually
laissez-faire PC Earnshaw was stood in front of him almost begging to interview
the Central Academy shooting suspect.

“Why
so keen?” he asked, always wary of a dedicated employee.

“I
was the first on the scene,” Earnshaw replied.“I brought him here.I think
he’ll talk to me.It’s a guarantee.”

“Did
he speak on the way here?”

“Well,
no.”

“Then
how can you be so sure?”

“Well,
I think he’s a bit like me.”

“I’m
not sure it’s wise to liken yourself to the murderer in cell five, do you
constable?”

“No,
Sir,” he replied, his request not going well.It was not easy to explain why he wanted to interview the suspect.He didn’t really know himself.There was something about his demeanour, the
flecks of relief that were sketched across his face when Earnshaw had first
addressed him, before the reality of the situation kicked in.The suspect had chosen to kill someone at a
gig he had planned to go to – so to some extent they must be similar.And for that reason he wanted to know what
had brought this on.It was very rare
you could associate with a criminal so he wanted to make the most of it.

Ellison
was losing interest, his rotund face glowering underneath a pair of thick
rimmed spectacles.He had no time for
this.

“He’s
not your average murderer, is he?” Earnshaw continued.

“Please
define your average murderer,” challenged Ellison wearily.

“With
all due respect, sir, I don’t wish to get bogged down in rhetoric.”Ellison glared sharply and Earnshaw changed
his approach accordingly.“I believe I
can get a result with this one.”

“You
know, I honestly couldn’t give a shit what you think.” Ellison punctured the
air with his crisp pronunciation of the profanity.“You are a PC, and PC’s don’t interview
murder suspects.You were way out of
line tonight, and you’re lucky no-one’s making any more out of it.I don’t know why you’re so keen, and I don’t
care to know.Leave it to the professionals.”

Earnshaw was gutted, and
he didn’t know why.Police careers could
be made on murder cases, he knew that.But he had been thinking about leaving the force for months now, so he was
sure it wasn’t that.He wasn’t
career-minded, but for once he wanted to do his job well.

He
wanted the accused to walk free.

Quashing
the thought, Earnshaw strode purposefully down the corridors, looking for DC
Patton, who was also working on the case.She was a tolerant woman, very good at getting results.She was pretty fearless, but fifteen years of
policing had taught her that.Earnshaw
hadn’t worked with her many times, but he knew to be nervous around her.She was pretty stunning for an older woman,
and she was aware of it.She was at the
front desk, trying to gain basic information on the latest gun-crime
administrator on the PNC.There was
nothing.He had an immaculate record, if
he was telling the truth.He had
confirmed his name as Ryan Pendlebury, and spoke with a Mancunian accent to
back up his claim that he was from Manchester.

It
could all be an act of course.He
wouldn’t be the first suspect to give false details.

Still,
the powers that be would be out of the way for a while, trying to work out
exactly what had gone on that evening.Earnshaw
had things to keep himself occupied if the night proved uneventful.

He
would be working out ways to get the charge reduced.

He
had no reason to trust Ryan Pendlebury, but he did.Positive policing at last, he thought, hoping
that Patton couldn’t tell where his loyalties lay.